


Made In Heaven

by discodeaky65



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018) Actor RPF, Queen (Band)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-06
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2020-11-26 09:13:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20927756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/discodeaky65/pseuds/discodeaky65
Summary: Freddie Mercury felt like it had been his fault,   those afterparties that escalated from quiet drinks between the band and their close ones  to full blown partying and strippers with trays of champagne.   The Band never thought of risks,  they were just taking what they felt they deserved as successful men with albums and tours bringing fortunes.    In ways,  Louisa was similar putting on smiles as athletes clapped her on the sweaty back fresh from the badminton court she had won her victory match with.   Guzzling on what she thought she deserved,  taking what she didn't really deserve.





	1. Chapter 1

_**Made In Heaven (I'm Having To Learn To Pay The Price)**_

_ **Introduction- fast forward** _

** _September 13th 1987_ **

** _Garden Lodge_ **

_Louisa Beckinsdale, 41_

"You're an _addict_, darling."  
  
Freddie Mercury had barely whispered the words that felt like a bigger punch to her gut than the Custody Battle between her and her ex-Fiancé. She couldn't decide where to look, at Freddie who was massaging his moustache awaiting sadly for some delayed reaction that seemed unlikely at every click of the handle on his expensive, or the floor occupied by one of his four "fur babies" meowing softly whilst circling her Human Father's legs and massaging her head on his denim acid-washed jeans. 

Cocaine changes the way the brain releases dopamine, Louisa felt nothing as she desperately tried to conceal the fear on her face. But, gnawing in her fingers was a bag with enough for two snorts and Freddie was standing fighting her for the bag that fulfilled her growing addiction that plagued her thoughts and made her skin crawl with sensation. "I could sugar coat words with something you want to hear," he started before pausing and pointing to a picture hung tidily on his wall. "But that would be bullshit, wouldn't it? And I'm sorry that I can't bullshit something like this, not like this Lou." His head sank lower in a shameful positioned hanging. Freddie looked as though he were standing in one of those Church Aisles awaiting his Good Friend's Coffin to be carried down the walk of grief.

  
All through her teens and early twenties Louisa Beckinsdale was anti-drugs. she never considered trying coke, acid, mushrooms, heroin or any other hard drugs. she had heard of instances where someone did coke for the first time and died, and that scared the shit out of her. A life in fame and making money playing games of Badminton saw her with plenty of people who did do coke, and it was always offered, but nobody ever made her feel stupid for turning it down or pressured het to do it. She never remembered after-parties

Louisa pouted shaking her head letting the tips of brown hair tickle her shoulder blades refusing to believe the man in front of her, Freddie nodded adamantly while taking a gulp of his drink that previously sat on the Kitchen countertop, savouring the ailments of scotch that aged only the finest in ways, expensively and profoundly. His stare cut through her as his gaze became less soft becoming colder everytime an excuse entered her mind. There weren't any excuses, if there were, Freddie saw right through them. Freddie was a blessing but also too good to be around her influence. "I mean Jesus, what in your life is so terrible that drinking and taking coke all day makes it your escape route? What about the two girls you had, Allen who worshipped you?" Holding the bag, she stared at the floor. Desperate to take it all in a one, Freddie saw her weak state and in seconds; her world of dopamine was in his hands.

She lost 20 pounds in less than 2 months, and her beautifully chubby face was beginning to look gaunt. Freddie assumed Louisa thought she was hiding the addiction well, but everybody knew. She, anyone who tolerated the addict partying lifestyle would go out to clubs and she would go to the bathroom about once per hour; sometimes doing lines with her friend in the next stall.

Her Father gave up on her. he told her that he hoped she didn't kill herself, and stopped talking to her altogether. She lost friends; people began distancing themselves from her. Soon all she had left was Freddie and Mary. But that was all she needed. Them and the sweet white powder.

  
Freddie felt like it had been his fault, those afterparties that escalated from quiet drinks between the band and their close ones to full blown partying and strippers with trays of champagne. The Band never thought of risks, they were just taking what they felt they deserved as successful men with albums and tours bringing fortunes. In ways, she was similar putting on smiles as athletes clapped her on the sweaty back fresh from the badminton court she had won her victory match with. Guzzling on what she thought she deserved, taking what she didn't really deserve.

Was it his fault? Freddie wasn't sure. Counting the times they had done lines together; David Bowie third in waiting and Roger jumping up and down drunk. Disappearance after disappearance, Freddie thought he knew the Girl he attended College with. He thought he could read her like a book, but obviously not. Here she was crying and screaming for her fix.

"Freddie give me that!" Snaps Louisa, fighting him for the bag tossed in the sink contents spilling and growing soggy in the remnants of water. She shakes her head, fighting back tears of anger and frustration. "I'm not an addict, Freddie. Stop being over dramatic about my life." She said, hands shaking as she turned her back to him in a moment of composure. Wiping tears with her thumb.

A flare in anger shot through his veins like a dose of adrenaline, painful empathy for the twins stuck in the middle of a Mother addicted to cocaine and an overprotective Father isolating them in acts of emotional abuse layered with Fatherly love and worries that somehow they'll be exposed to their Mother's public and scandalous lifestyle. "_Dramatic?_ Dramatic! This is over dramatic?"  
  
A laugh escapes his lips, bitter and frosty. "You realise how serious this is?" He snaps, hand slamming against the Kitchen island. Louisa had never seen Freddie Mercury so angry, he was always very calm and collected. "Your children are gone Louisa and you've barely said a thing about it." Gone was the soft and understanding Freddie, replaced by determined Freddie who wanted to help his Best Friend out of the hole she had fallen down. 

In the aftermath of finding out he was an AIDs Positive- from the Doctors, referred to Specialists then referred to Sexual Health Clinics; Freddie had put in enough time to stop, stop and think. He had enough time to sit down and pour every bottle of cheap liquor away and stop functioning as the Unpredictable Frontman of Queen. Silence filling his ears as he looks around the surroundings he called home.

Pictures of friends, family on every inch of his wall. Faces of those he knew, stayed and left his life on any terms. Life was unpredictable, thought Freddie sitting in a haze as he listens to the sounds of the outdoor breeze an Louisa's soft breaths. What could be done to reverse time that waited for nobody?  
It was similar to a tragic lifetime movie. Louisa was emotionally abusive to those who loved her and put herself in financial ruin, and her loving Fiancé would fix it. He would forgive her and her cuts and bruises would heal. A sad cliché and the children were growing up in a horrible life.

Freddie wanted to fix broken things; that was her. Louisa Beckinsdale, playing badminton for England; the cocaine addict who refused to believe it despite losing everything she had worked for.

Freddie wanted to fix her, fix the broken glass that was her.

"I will not be, I refuse to be some poster boy for AIDs, the one sad prick waiting for everyone to coo over me, going 'oh poor little Freddie' or yelling and sobbing about how 'he doesn't deserve AIDs.' I mean every word of that." Louisa glances at him, unwilling to speak. Unable to move.

  
He returned that empty gaze, almost disgusted at such desperation for the drugs.

  
"But that's what you are. A sad poster Girl showing the public what happens when you get addicted to coke."


	2. Introduction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louisa meets a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long long wait and the fact this is just the introduction, I swear there's too much to deal with in education at the moment... Anyway, I'm doing my best and hopefully I won't be anywhere near as long with the first chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy Folks!

**Made In Heaven (I'm Having To Learn To Pay The Price)**

  
  
  


**Introduction**

**August 1969**

**Ealing Art College, London, England**

_ Louisa Beckinsdale _

"They're talking about you."

Said a voice beside her, Louisa Beckinsdale merely turned with a slight involuntary grumble. She wasn't a people person, socialising only came when it ensured a step forward in her work. She felt like she had to be nice, the person next to her didn't exactly know her name, she wasn't wearing any sign on her forehead with the precise instruction to bugger off. Blatantly, Louisa ignored him only for him to face her with a look of empathy. "They talk about me too, y'know because they think I'm off the Pakies." On inspection, he did look quite dark but Louisa was brought up with a Mum who homeschooled Foreign Children so she had no problem with the Gentleman at her Side, instead she nodded gathering her bag from the floor and taking out her drawings and Polaroid camera. The boy stared at her work before turning to Louisa with a mere look of jealousy as he seemed to study her art, brown eyes looking at every smudge of charcoal and pencil.

It didn't irritate her per se, but she didn't exactly feel complimented by some stranger inspecting her work as though he were in judgement or something that screamed his superiority over her. She smiled and turned to him, not looking at him but his hair. "Not to be so rude, but do I even know you?" His expression was rather taken aback and she regret her hostility. She shouldn't have sounded so hostile, so rude.  _ Not to be rude? You cow, that primarily means you are being rude!  _ She muttered a guilty apology only to be waved off with a smiling boy at her side. It caused her to wonder if he was in fact a foreigner and had grown used to the subordinate treatment. She felt a little worse judging him by the skin, he sounded as posh as she was but most did in order to be accepted.

"Not to sound overly optimistic but I'm a legend!"

"Come again?"

"Freddie Bulsara, a legend in the making, Singer of a little band you may know," Freddie's smirk was deadly serious and yet Louisa had never seen him in her life, not to mention recognise his voice. She'd never actually seen a Gentleman with straight hair that frizzes out almost as though he spent the day stealing nylon wigs and dying them a special shade of black she could only describe had a mystic shine. Her hair being a Caramel Brown, she was actually pathetically jealous of Freddie's shine over his voluminous locks. 

"If you're not a Beatle, I won't know you I suppose, Bulsara," she half smiled, he smiled and chuckled softly at that phrase. "So, have you performed as of recent?"

Freddie merely shrugs, like it was a day in the life sort of thing, Judging by his voice, Louisa estimated him to be quite a tone dead singer. Maybe he sang foreign prayers, again she scolded herself for her British Ignorance. "We do them in college bars every couple of weekends, like any other group of College boys I suppose." Freddie smiles a toothy grin that revealed to her, a mouth of teeth that were overcrowded and unseen. They looked unsatisfying at first, Louisa wanted to rearrange them on the spot and then her compassion for his looks sought through and he was like anyone else in the room, more acquainted and more liked than those who watched them like a couple of circus animals. "Smile." He said earning an eyebrow raise, unconvinced. "Name of our band," Freddie added judging her incredulous expression. "It wouldn't be too bad if you were to smile, right enough."

She smiled one of those sickeningly sweet smiles with a light glare accompanied by a “ha ha, how funny.” The name “Smile” seemed ironic for someone with teeth like those. Did his Bandmates do it for a laugh on Freddie’s expense, then again, if they were so concerned for society; Freddie wouldn’t be in their sights most likely. Freddie reciprocated her smile and it was rather genuine, fond for strangers. "With those teeth, I can see where the name originates." Louisa remarked, studying his blush. A nervous chuckle fell from Freddie's parted lips.

"Oh, I have nothing to do with the name. The former lead singer came up with that himself." He explains, shyly and she could see him attempt to hide his teeth. An act of insecurity. "I've been meaning to change it, maybe something with elegance." A sly smile appears on his features, they both understand College gigs aren't exactly a form of royalty- or elegance. "Speaking names, I'm afraid I never caught yours."

Louisa scowled, "Louisa," She replied cautiously eyeing Freddie. He eyed her almost as intensely with a gesture for her to continue. "Louisa Beckinsdale." The Girl said with a low sigh awaiting the mockery of her aristocratic name. Being the daughter of a rich and Wealthy line of British Business Geeks was certainly one thing that caused such social isolation for her, while her height that was just a tad more noticeable stood aside Girls that only stood at 5"4 was only the icing on that cake of Social Outcast.

Being slight luscious, add in jiggly and maybe even disgusting- Louisa Beckinsdale was simply the Girl drowned in straight yet tight-on-her jeans and oversized hoodies as a way in hiding everything that hung out of her body. That's simply what Puberty merely did, even though her excuse and ingenious alibis describing puberty hitting her once slender and curveless body was always absolutely belittled and she was left staring at Girls shorter but always skinnier and hanging off boys that were 6" and muscled and everything she dreamed for.

Originally, she'd left school with a degree in Hospitality and an ambition to be this world class Chef rubbing two sticks together and creating tastes that not even Madeleine Kamman could beat or even successfully imitate. But her Father merely laughed, as did her College interviewer. Her Father at least had thought Artistic quality was much more needed, her College that dropped her had showed her out and said a harsh  _ You obviously have experience tasting more than cooking, maybe show up when you can cook like society's Housewife.  _ A real sting, she cried and cried vowing to lose all of that extra two and a half stone in order to be an acceptable nine and a half, it simply didn't happen she only about half a stone before giving up.

Her degree in Art and Design was supposed to be well worked for, instead, it had been earned without two fingers being lifted only pissing around with her Secondary school Chums while Mr Markle beat the words 'Most important years of your lives are Secondary School years' by caring too little about the English Marking Associations Guidelines, as long as there was a handmade Design Portfolio and Expressive, he'd just about pass everyone. She'd been lucky that way, only until her final year when his fondness of his favourite chunky student had become all of a sudden disgustingly clear and he had his way with her in Mrs Fieldman's Art Supply cupboard, she often thought of it only honestly she'd enjoyed every erotic and sensuous moment between them. 

She'd always lived to the fullest, at First Mr Markle was someone she'd avoid at all costs after running from his kissed lips until later Post-Graduate, She'd stupidly fallen at his heels, feeling wanted because some pervert didn't mind her body fat.  _ What a laugh that was in the end,  _ she thought a that moment as she set her bags down in her new Dorm Room, he'd cheated on her with the Foreign Exchange Student from Germany and ever since then, she was falling at her own feet in self-disgust and extreme insecurity over her body but never had she truly gotten round to doing anything about it. 

Some forget that cheating destroys self image. Staring in the mirror all day and night wondering what it was he found so repulsive that he had to go elsewhere. Louisa hated her body, her face and everything around her.

About a week after the disastrous interview for whatever college she was supposed to be attending, her Father had burst into her bedroom with the walls covered in Beatles posters and pictures of Paul McCartney her secret love of her life and he gave her a brand new polaroid. He was funny about it and as always he had done something concerning her future behind her back. 

"Anonymous Soul with the name of an English Aristocrat how very British of you," Freddie had giggled, hair falling over his face as he composed himself briefly. Maybe Freddie wasn’t like everyone else, there was definitely something about him that screamed empathy and even understanding. Louisa couldn’t help studying Freddie’s features, pin-pointing his differences to the average British Man. Of course he would’ve recieved the treatment, he could be picked out like a yellow daffodil among roses, he was exotic and maybe that’s what she needed to show those people who dared to critisize her for who she was “Fuck you.”

It was nice the way Freddie teased, like he was afraid of going too far but continued to indulge in the light air. "Bold of you to assume I'm of Poor decent, My Family happen to be Business junkies I'll have you know," she laughed in reply causing Freddie to nod with a sarcastic  _ Sure they are,  _ and Louisa snorted. "Anyway,  _ Freddie,  _ the accent might have me to an extent but where are you  _ really  _ from."

"Zanzibar, but I'm like a Parsian Goddess don't you think  _ Darling _ ?"

"Sphinx Cat more like." She remarks, pen on paper. Louisa wrinkled her nose, Freddie was sitting humming softly as he seemed to be sketching a portrait of a familiar face; Paul McCartney. "Nice lashes, Paul's got the lashes of a God don't you think?" With that Freddie scoffed and laughed for a moment. "I absolutely, hand over my heart am willing for Paul to take me..." 

Freddie grows quiet, eyes sparkling with a hint of amusement but says nothing. 

"Then we have a lot in common, don't we?"


End file.
